from a stay on the moon
by irnan
Summary: Luke has begun to measure time not by clocks or calenders, but by the times he gets to see his wife.


_this is a disclaimer._

_**AN:** Posting spree! ::spams everyone::_

**from a stay on the moon**

Mestreya was a pretty charming planet from what Luke could tell – the continent he was on consisted mostly of rolling hills and deep, dark forests, and the cities were very old, built of a kind of red sandstone-like rock that the Mestreyans shaped into solid square houses and winding, cobbled streets.

Currently you couldn't step outside a house without being confronted with dozens of campaign holos on every wall in sight. Election week again. And one of the most interesting laws in the Mestreyan lawbooks was the tiny little clause, ignored of course for most of the days the Empire nominally ruled here, that stated that any disputes arising out of an election had to be settled by the judgement of a Jedi.

This was Luke's third visit in seven years. The Mestreyans loved nothing more than a decently entertaining election.

The first time they'd called for Jedi judgement, he'd managed to convince Leia to go, mostly by sulking at her till she said yes and then convincing her she should take Han too, thus allowing him to spend an unprecedented two whole weeks alone with his niece and nephews; but she'd come back fuming at the cavalier attitude the Mestreyans took towards the whole business of politics and told him in no uncertain terms that if ever they called on them again, he, Luke, would have to go in person. Apart from anything else, it would be excellent practice.

(Han still teased him about it every now and then: _that planet where you're learning to be a crazy politician_, he called it, and Luke would point out that _crazy politician_ was a tautology, and then, if Leia had overheard them, they would both be in trouble.)

Not that Luke minded much: he liked the Mestreyans' cavalier attitude to something the rest of the galaxy took so terribly seriously, even though the sheer control the bureaucracy had over the planet _was_ a little troubling. But the capital city, Mestra, was absolutely beautiful, and the forests were spectacular. Mestreyan election disputes were Luke Skywalker's idea of a vacation.

The trouble was, this particular trip meant he had had to put off his reunion with Mara for nearly two weeks even before the summons to Coruscant had reached him yesterday, and that was making him distinctly irritable.

She'd gloat if she knew. Mara Jade Skywalker, the only being in the galaxy who could coax visible irritability out of Jedi Master, Hero of Yavin, Alliance Commander and Protector of the New Republic Luke Skywalker –

Well, the last wasn't an official title, but he wouldn't put it past the media to invent it if he got involved in yet another galaxy-saving stunt; who knew what they wanted him on Coruscant for? Someone had probably dug up yet another Imperial superweapon.

Maybe he should comm Han before he left.

Anyway, here he was at the Mestra spaceport, listening to the same farewell speech he'd gotten the last two times he'd been here and fiddling with his flight gloves. The sun was out and everywhere Luke looked the spaceport seemed to radiate an obnoxious cheerfulness.

_Great_. At least he'd be away from it soon...

Something brushed across his awareness then: a whisper of her voice, the tiniest hint of her shampoo on the breeze. He turned his head, frowning.

Again, gentle as the good morning kiss he'd get in the privacy of their bedroom, where she could smile and snuggle against him all she liked without showing the entire galaxy that Mara Jade Skywalker was as human as any of them. Luke reached out to her and found her irritable as he was himself, but more distracted, probably negotiating with one of Karrde's contacts.

Suddenly, he knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that she was here, on planet – more. In this very spaceport.

"Artoo," he said when the speech was over and the handshaking was done, "find an excuse to delay our departure by half an hour, will you?"

Artoo lost no time in pointing out that they were supposed to be keeping to a schedule. Luke laughed at him. "Yes, Mom. I remember. But I have a sudden craving for –"

Muffins. Bakery stand a few levels below him, reddish walls a similar colour to her hair; she was planning something, mind far away as she counted out credits –

"Muffins," he finished, grinning. Stripped his flight gloves off and undid his flight suit by a couple of fastenings. He tossed the grumbling Artoo a two-fingered salute, left the docking bay as decorously as he could (there were still a couple of officials hanging around) and then broke into a run: down the corridor, through the arcade to the ramps leading to the other levels, zig-zagging back and forth dodging through passengers and captains and cargo and crew and luggage until he reached the top of the last ramp and saw her, leaning against a pillar licking icing off her fingers and peering into the distance.

For a moment, Mara didn't react. Then she paused, thumb just leaving her mouth, eyes narrowing in concentration.

Luke started to grin.

She bit her lip and turned to look at him.

He darted past a family with a large pet bird of some kind and a pile of suitcases and broke into a run; they met halfway up the ramp, her momentum making him stagger, arms locking round his neck and mouth closing over his.

"Luke," she muttered against his lips. "Oh, Luke."

"Mara," he murmured back, directing all his attention to the important task of kissing her, his hands in her hair and her body pressed flush against him. They were standing in a patch of golden sunlight, he realised when they drew apart, breathless.

"What are you doing here?" simultaneously, and then laughed at each other.

"Election dispute."

"One of Karrde's partners wants out. I'm trying to find out why – oh, is this the planet Leia refuses to go to?"

"Right. It gets her annoyed."

"Your sister has a shorter temper than I do."

"It's my position she picked it up from our father."

"Because that's not worrying _at all_."

"No more than your past."

"Touché, Farmboy."

They kissed again, perhaps less desperately this time but with no less passion.

"Any chance I'll see you on Coruscant?" Luke asked softly.

Mara frowned. "In the next couple of weeks?"

He nodded.

"None whatsoever. Next assignment is at Sollust – but look here. If the Powers That Be try sending you on some sort of save the galaxy mission, you comm me first. And Karrde can hobble along without me. Understand?"

"I promise."

Third kiss. Luke dropped his left hand to the small of Mara's back and she fisted her hands in his flight suit, hummed approval in her throat when he deepened it and then licked into his mouth; she still tasted like those muffins, and she smelled of sweat and ale and three-day-old clothes and the cockpit of her ship: like Mara, in short. Freshers were for not-so-urgent missions, and the kind of people she often dealt with thought it stranger if you did shower regularly.

She wrinkled her nose at him and smiled, tucked her face into the side of his neck. Luke rested his cheek on her hair, sighing.

"We could stay here for another few decades."

Mara laughed. "I'd start to smell in a couple hours. Haven't had the time to shower."

"Too late, Jade."

"That _is_ the kind of thing you like to hear from your husband the first time you see him in – what, a month?"

"Straight-out farm boy honesty, my love."

For once she didn't bother with a quip, just smiled. The sunlight lit up her green eyes and picked out a couple of stray freckles on her nose and cheeks, catching in her hair. Luke leaned in and pressed his forehead against hers, loving her breath on his face, the tight grip of her hands on his biceps. The world had briefly narrowed to the patch of sun they were standing in and the circle of her arms. Sidious himself could have been standing behind them and Luke would neither have known nor cared. The rush of people around them never slowed, adding to a sudden surreal feeling that they'd stepped out of time for a moment just to be together while the rest of the galaxy rushed on around them.

At last a bell tolled somewhere in the city: third hour of the afternoon. Luke sighed again. Mara shifted in his arms.

"I have to go," simultaneously once more, but this time neither of them felt like laughing.

"Two weeks," Luke said. "I swear to you, two weeks. At Yavin."

"At Yavin, in two weeks," Mara repeated. "If you get sidetracked I'll tell your sister."

He grinned. "Blackmailer."

"She always takes my side."

"Only cause you guilt her into it by bringing up all the times you've saved her kids."

Goodbye kiss: short, fierce, fiery.

"Don't get shot at, Skywalker."

"Come home safe, Jade."

When Luke got back to his X-Wing, he was in an obnoxiously good mood. Artoo informed him testily that he liked the irritable version of him better.


End file.
